


Following The Light: A Tale Of Two Kings

by celefinwe



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Male Slash, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 17:40:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celefinwe/pseuds/celefinwe
Summary: In times of darkness, one must follow the light to find what they are looking for. The epic begins here.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the delicious OTP that is Peter/Caspian or is in any way remotely related to CS Lewis. This is all nothing more than a figment of my imagination fueled by the desire to see these pretty,pretty people together in a non angsty way. 
> 
> Originally posted on FF

**_Part I_ **

"You, him, your father. Narnia's better off without the whole lot of you!"

That hurt. More than anything else, it hurt because deep within the dark corners of his heart, he did feel some sort of responsibility for what happened to the Narnians. Never mind that it was a war initiated by his forefathers in an act of self preservation over a millennia ago. It was the Telmarines who wielded the sword of destruction over Narnia and changed everything that the Kings and Queens of old had worked so hard to achieve. He should feel more empathetic with the High King's emotional outburst and exercise more restraint in the face of such blatant provocation. He should… but he didn't.

It was a sight to behold. Swords crossed, chest heaving with anger and steel blue eyes framed by lashes made of spun gold. It was like looking at the sun at its most shining glory; like the sun at high noon on a cloudless day in mid summer. The heat seared through eyelids. He could still see everything with his eyes closed.

High King Peter – The Magnificent.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Part II_ **

The ring of metal clashing echoed in his ears. His sword felt as light as a feather and he moved to the rhythm orchestrated by his opponent. Through the flashing blades, he could catch glimpses of his foe.

Tall and lean, the other man was darker in coloring. A pair of grim eyes stared back at him with furious determination.  _'I will not give in easily. I will make feel worthy to be my enemy'_ , those dark eyes cried.

He almost lost himself in the beauty of this dance of death. All it took was a moment and he lost the struggle of walking on razor's edge. Yet, he was a king. Even without a sword, he was not about to concede the war. He picked up a rock.

"Prince… Caspian?"

"Yes. And who are you?"


	2. The Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In times of darkness, one must follow the light to find what they are looking for. The epic continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the delicious OTP that is Peter/Caspian or is in any way remotely related to CS Lewis. This is all nothing more than a figment of my imagination fueled by the desire to see these pretty,pretty people together in a non angsty way.

 

 

Light from the torch made strange, elongated shadows on the wall

Light from the torch made strange, elongated shadows on the wall. Caspian tried not to shudder from the cold. The Kings' quarters were relatively deeper underground from the rest and the only tunnel leading to it was narrow and tall. It would make a suitable place to make a last stand as it was easy to defend, but as there was no other way in and out, it could also easily be a fitting tomb for the Kings who slept in it.

He reached for the hilt of his sword involuntarily.  _'It would not come to that! Please don't let it come to that.'_ The thought of pale faces buried under a pile of stones and rubble brought a chill to his heart and it had nothing to do with the seeping cold coming from the underground caverns.

Caspian kept his pace at an even stride. He was proud of how calm he must have looked to any pair of eyes that might be watching him from the dark. He was a Prince in his own realm and the rightful heir of the Telmarine throne. He was not about to give in to foolish flights of fancy. There was no time for that. There was a war going on. He could not let the Kings and Queens of Old down. He never loosened the grip on his sword.

The tunnel led to a sharp turn before continuing further. The space became slightly bigger; the tunnel was now wide enough for two men to walk side by side but it did not get any taller. He could feel a slight breeze now that must come from an opening somewhere from the roof. He stopped to take a deep breath before moving on. The air tasted stale and musty, with only a hint of grass from the ground above him. He can't wait to get out of this place.

A short distance later and he could hear the swift murmurs of human voices. Even with the walls of the caves reverberating any sound made within them, it was hard to distinguish what was being said. Suddenly the voices stopped.

"Who is it?" Peter's voice rang loud and clear.

' _Perhaps this was not such a good idea after all. They must have a great deal to talk about.'_ Caspian began to doubt his initial decision to come down here but it was too late to turn back now.

"It is I, Caspian," he stepped forward through the opening to reveal himself. His eyes briefly scanned his surroundings before settling on a pile of blankets in the corner. A single makeshift bed was there. He did not find it out of the ordinary. After all, the two men in the room were brothers.

"What are you doing here?" One of the ' _men'_  asked.

Caspian turned to face him. Edmund looked older than his years at that moment. His face was grim and his body taut with tension. He must be worried over the fact that in less than an hour his brother would be fighting in a duel to the death with a hardened, not to mention older, Telmarine warrior. Those dark eyes stared right through him.

No matter how old these two facing him were in the world they come from, here they were men. Old souls with knowledge and experience far surpassing his own, and he was glad of their presence. With their help, he might have a chance to win.

"Prince Caspian? What are you doing here?" Peter repeated the question.

"Ah, yes," Caspian stammered. "I wanted to see if you needed a hand. With the preparations, I mean."

"We're fine, thanks," Edmund spoke tersely.

"It's alright, Ed," Peter smiled and placed a hand on Edmund's shoulder. "Why don't you go check on the girls and I'll see you in a bit?"

There was a long silence as the two brothers simply stood there staring at each other, saying what could not be said through unspoken words. Edmund broke the contact first and turned to look at Caspian.

"I'm sure you two have some last minute details to discuss, I'll just leave you to it then."

If Edmund seemed a little bitter as he said it, Caspian hardly heard it over the pounding of his heart as Peter looked at him like  _that_. If Edmund bumped into him a little harder than was necessary as he was leaving, Caspian hardly felt a thing. Peter stepped closer to him with a knowing look in his eyes and the beginning of a smile on his lips.

"Would you like to help me dress?"

"Wha… I mean, yes, of course." Caspian cursed himself for being ten different kinds of fool. He was simply going to help another man put on his armour. There was nothing sensual about that at all.

Except that being this close to anyone has never caused him to break out into a cold sweat. As Peter pulled his chain mail on, Caspian grabbed the nearest piece of armor and walked closer.

Peter held out his hands so Caspian could have full access to his body. He looked at Caspian expectantly.

Caspian took a deep breath and thought to himself that perhaps casual was the best way to go.

"Everything is going according to plan, "Caspian began.

"That's good to know."

"We came up with a good plan. Miraz will not be expecting this." Caspian bent closer to tighten the fastenings on the armour. He breathed in deeply the scent of leather, sweat and Peter. This was as close as he would get to the blond and he was ready to accept that. There was no reason for him not to enjoy this moment while it lasted.

They both remained silent as Caspian proceeded to place each piece with care. It was almost like a sacred ritual of worship and he secretly relished the thought.

Once he was done, Caspian took a few steps back to view the High King in full battle armour.

Crimson, silver and gold. He looked exactly as Caspian had first imagined he would. The man standing in front of him was made of legends. How could he ever hope to be more than a loyal subject in his rule?

"Is it that bad?"

"Huh?" Caspian managed to reply.

"You looked so serious just now. Do I really look that bad?"

Caspian wondered if he had accidentally knocked Peter on the head with a piece of metal. Was the High King making a… joke?

"Do I look fat? Does my bum look big in this?" Peter persisted.

Caspian missed the mischievous glint in the blond's eyes and tried to find a way to reassure the High King that his derriere, or any other body part, did not look out of place at all. As a matter of fact, he looked a little too good in them. Even with the bulk of the armour on him, he still managed to appear lean, and at the same time muscular. If the few stolen glances he had of Peter in his bath are all he had to go by, he would say that the blond had no cause to worry whatsoever.

"Your silence is very reassuring, Prince."

"No, of course not, Your Majesty, "Caspian blurted in a moment of panic. "I assure you that you do not look, erm, unseemly at all!"

The High King burst out laughing. Caspian was stunned at first, but began to laugh as well. Their laughter echoed throughout the cave and could probably be heard all the way to the main caves. Caspian didn't care. It was good to laugh. Has it only been a week since his life got so complicated?

"It's going to be alright, you know," Peter was still smiling but his voice was more sombre now. His eyes remained warm, though.

Caspian had never seen Peter like this. He seemed nearly care free. He felt like he was being pulled in by the magnetic force, like he'd read in his Professor's books. It was almost a physical pain not to pull the other man into his arms and breathe him in.

"I won't kill him if I don't have to," Peter reassured him.

"My uncle deserves to die for what he did to my father. I only wish it was I that could deliver his death to him." The pain of his uncle's betrayal should be causing him to pull out his sword and swear the many ways the traitor should pay for his crimes, but strangely, under the hypnotic blue eyes of King Peter, it did not seem that significant anymore. Miraz would pay for what he did, one way or another. It did not lessen the pain but he knew that everything would be alright. His King told him so, therefore it must be true.

"I didn't mean to deny you your rights to have justice served on your uncle. It was just that the council thought that Miraz would be more likely to accept a challenge from a king, especially since he considers himself one."

"I know," Caspian said simply.

He had not been so accepting when the idea was brought forward during the meeting. He felt that the right to end Miraz's life should be his alone. It was not that he could not understand the logic behind it; he just could not bear to relinquish the task to anyone else. Strange that he should feel so differently now.

"It will all be over soon."

Peter looked so sad as he said it. Those clear blue eyes looked at him invitingly… expectantly.

He should've said something. He wanted to ask if he had the High King's permission to pursue this. He just couldn't find the words to say it.

The moment passed. Peter picked up his helmet and walked towards the opening of the cave.

"It's time to go. Everyone is waiting for us."

"Yes, they are."


	3. For Narnia!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In times of darkness, one must follow the light to find what they are looking for. On the battlefield, sometimes you can win more than just the war. Battle and blood alert. Not for the faint hearted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the delicious OTP that is Peter/Caspian or is in any way remotely related to CS Lewis. This is all nothing more than a figment of my imagination fueled by the desire to see these pretty,pretty people together in a non angsty way.
> 
> Author's Note: Thanks to my wunnerful beta, Rosie, for working so fast and efficiently, and putting up with my procrastinating ways. Fear the beta with the imaginary whip of doooom!

 

 

Thundering hooves from the incoming Telmarine cavalry was deafening. Their hideous masks glinted under the blazing sun. Peter never flinched.

"Five!"

Caspian should be almost there now, at the underground maize with nature wrought columns under their feet. Finding it was co-incidental. Adding it to their plan was ingenious. He just hoped no one gets trapped or hurt.

"Six!"

Lucy had to be alright. She was the one who had the most faith. Aslan may have abandoned Narnia to its own fate for 1300 years, but He will not abandon them now!

"Seven!"

From the corner of his eyes he could see Edmund taking a step forward. He wanted to pull him back, to tell him to stand with Susan and the archers where it was safer. Edmund stole a quick look at him and he knew. Edmund will throw himself in front of Peter to protect him from being trampled if Caspian failed.

"Eight!"

The ground trembled where he stood and Peter allowed himself a grim smile. Caspian did it! He and the rest of the Narnian army should be heading above ground now.

"Nine!"

Peter gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. He quickly turned around to see if the others were ready too. This is it. The second great battle of his time. For Narnia and for Aslan. For Edmund, for Susan and for Lucy. For Caspian.

"Get ready!"

The land rippled and shifted in front of him until it finally gave way under the advancing enemy troop. Men and horses alike fell into the opening in the ground. Cries of panic and shock filled the air.

Volleys of arrow fell from the sky onto a scene of madness. Peter didn't have to look to know where they came from. From the ledge, Susan would have full view of the battle. If things should turn out badly, she was to lead the women and children to safety. He prayed for Susan's sensible side to prevail and that she won't lead them to join the fighting out of desperation to save him and Edmund instead.

There were less movement in the hole now. Those who were still alive were making their way back.  _Now!_

"For Narnia!"

That was when he saw him, Caspian leading his company in from the rear. He felt a huge weight lift off his shoulder. He cut his way through the resolute faces to get to his Prince. There were matters that had to be set right between them. He refused to die now.

Swing. Block. Parry. Thrust. Peter felt lost himself in the sheer struggle to stay alive. Friends and foe fell around him. The air hung heavy with the smell of blood and death. He couldn't stop. He had to find Caspian. He had to see with his own eyes that Caspian was alright. Without turning to look over his shoulder, he shouted for Edmund to follow him.

Like stepping into the center of a whirlwind, Peter found himself up against a single Telmarine soldier. All the careful planning and preparations and it came down to this. His opponent had lost his mask. He looked no older than Peter himself and was wielding the pikestaff as if unsure what to do with it, its tip already gleaming red. He looked horrified, ready to throw it away and just run from all of this. Peter wished he would.

Then his face hardened and he pointed at Peter. He charged. There was no other choice.

Peter swung his sword and the other fighter raised it over his head to block. Peter swung again and this time the staff broke in two. Before the soldier could recover himself, Peter took half a step forward and buried his blade to its hilt in the other man's chest. He wasted no time in pulling it out again and tried not to hear as the man-child gasped for his last breaths.

He would mourn for all the dead later, Narnians and Telmarines alike. It was time to tend to the living. He turned around only to see more fighting and death. On foot he couldn't see if a certain Prince lived. His chest tightened and he urgently threw himself back into battle.

But this time, more of his own people were lying on the battle field than that of the enemies'. From all sides but one, the foot soldiers were marching in.

' _There's still time. We have to buy Lucy more time.'_  Peter grit his teeth and prepared to order his army forward.

A scene flashed into his mind. Narnians screaming, massacred in the castle courtyard. The drawbridge was being lifted. He had to go, but he couldn't leave them behind.

' _You can still call it off. There's still time.'_  It wasn't the sound of his own conscience he heard that spoke to him. Or if it was, it sounded a lot like Caspian. He needs to get them all back to the How!

"Fall back! Back to the How!" Peter commanded.

The few that heard him started to run back.

"Back to the How!" He repeated desperately.

As he ran, he thought he saw glimpses of the Prince running beside him. There was no time for him to confirm it. Large stones sailed overhead and threatened to block their escape. They crashed onto the How and Peter's heart stopped.  _Susan!_

As the dust and the debris cleared, Peter could now see that the entrance to the fort was completely blocked by huge boulders that fell from the catapult. There was no way in. There were trapped.

Peter felt his presence then. Relief washed through him as he turned to see Caspian standing by his side, looking worse for wear, but still his Caspian. Their eyes met briefly and Peter heard the answer he longed for from the first moment their paths crossed. He could die now and have no regrets.

Susan's cry for help broke his daze. She was dangling over a ledge. She was too high up. There was no way that he would make it to her in time! A few terrifying minutes later, the dwarf Trumpkin had manage to pull her back up and Peter said a silent prayer to whatever force that was looking out for them, be it Aslan or something else.

The battle was far from over. Outnumbered and trapped, there was little chance that they would make it out alive. But they had to give Lucy the time she needed to complete her mission, even if it meant that they had to pay for it with their own lives.

It was true that when facing with certain death, one's mind is able to see with absolute clarity. When Susan asked him who he was doing this for, he thought, it was for the Narnians, to absolve what ever guilt he felt for abandoning them in the first place. Now he knew that that wasn't entirely true. He did this for the rightful king of Narnia who blew on a horn to bring them back here. He did it so that the prince with the soulful eyes and idealistic ambitions could set things right back in Narnia and become the King he was meant to be.

Shouting his battle cry, he ran ahead. He could feel them following him. Susan, Edmund, Caspian and what was left of his army. He was still their king, and he was about to lead them to their death.

Peter kept fighting even though the adrenaline was wearing off. His bruised and tired limbs screamed in agony every time he lifted them, but each time he told himself,  _'Not yet. I won't die just yet.'_  At the back of his mind, he dared to hope that Lucy would find Aslan in time to safe the others.

"Peter, look! The trees!"

Peter turned to look to where Edmund was pointing. He looked excited. The trees?

Then one of those trees picked up one of the fleeing Telmarine soldiers with its branch and snapped him in two. That means… Lucy is safe! She must have found Aslan and the animated, fighting trees were sent by him.

The realization that they were now saved hit him so hard he almost staggered to his knees. Only the strong grip to his forearm stopped him from tumbling over. With a little help, Peter managed to straighten up and turned around to look at the one who had saved his dignity from falling face first into the grass.

Peter had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life. Face marred by dirt and blood, hair in disarray and a cut above his brow, Prince Caspian was the image of male beauty. Those eyes, dark as midnight, looked deep into his soul. There was no turning back now. Their lives will never be the same again.

As they followed the retreating army to the river, Peter thought, it may not be exactly like riding off into the sunset, but as far as he was concerned, it was close enough.


End file.
